


Why haven't you kissed me yet?

by sleep



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-21 19:48:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3703393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleep/pseuds/sleep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A drunken conversation goes wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why haven't you kissed me yet?

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is inspired by Verit's wonderful "Tips For Ruining Your Business" series (go read it now if you have yet to read it). I am afraid I have not done it justice, but hopefully you will still like this.  
> This fic contains nothing I can think of that is worth a warning.  
> I hope you enjoy it!

“Hey, why haven’t you kissed me yet?”Blurr froze. He was just finishing up the night, collecting the remaining glasses, cleaning the tables, and putting everything back to the right places. He had been cleaning one of the tables in a corner – someone had spilled their drink earlier, and the liquid had solidified on the table – and Swindle had been sleeping – or so he had thought – at the bar-counter. Swindle often passed out at the bar-counter, and Blurr usually just let him be until he closed up. That was just business as usual. That happened often enough. The question he thought he just had been asked, however, was absolutely _not_ usual.  
  
Blurr slowly turned around – it was possible that he had never moved as slowly before at any point during his millions of years of existence – eventually ending up facing Swindle – now propped up on one unsteady arm – but he found himself just gaping, rag in hand but completely forgotten. “What did you just say?” Blurr had not drunk anything that night. He was sober. He _should_ be sober. He reset his optics, but Swindle was still there, staring unsteadily at him.  
  
“You know, a kiss? Lips to lips? You sort of look like you are about to sometimes, but you never do.” Swindle tilted his head to the side. Blurr’s limbs were still not responding, and considering that the only command he seemed capable of at the moment was the one for running away, that might be just as well.  
  
It was true that the thought of kissing the ex-con had passed his mind once or twice, but Swindle had always moved away, or someone had called for Blurr, or... Or _something_ had happened that had prevented him from having to think too much about the urge. And it was not like Swindle had ever given any indications that he liked him back! Not that he liked the smarmy ex-con in the first place, of course.  
  
“Hmm, guess not.” Swindle sighed and fell off of his chair, collapsing in a lump on the floor. “I’m okay! I’m okay.” He helped himself up by leaning on the bar-counter, and swayed to a standing position. “Just forget that I said anything.” Swindle made his unsteady way to the exit, and left the bar. Blurr remained frozen in place for another few kliks, before realizing what had just happened, and thinking that Swindle was in no shape to make his way home on his own. He rushed out of the bar, but Swindle was no longer anywhere in sight. Racing up and down the street yielded no results either. Eventually he admitted defeat, and returned to Maccadam’s to finish up his work. It took much longer than usual, and he found himself drifting off in thoughts far more often than usual. Dawn was already getting close when he at last locked the bar and made his way home.  
  
\--  
  
The next afternoon, Swindle turned up as usual. He made no comment about the conversation they had had the last night, and it was almost as if it never had happened. Except it had. And now Blurr found his mind preoccupied with the salesmech far more often than could be healthy. But things just went on as usual, and Blurr found that keeping quiet about it was surprisingly easy, at least as long as he was kept busy in the bar. Maybe things would just go back to normal.  
  
But of course that would be too simple. Swindle was not exactly _avoiding_ him, but he found him sitting less often by the bar-counter, and he left before the bar closed more often than not. A few weeks passed, and Blurr found himself incapable of ignoring the situation any longer. It was not like he _like_ -liked the ex-con or anything, but he enjoyed his presence, and he was – odd as it was to say about someone who he saw almost daily – _missing_ the short mech.  
  
So one day he stepped up to Dirge – for once visiting the bar alone – and asked him to deliver a note to Swindle, which he luckily agreed to. The rest of that night dragged on even slower than usual, and he could barely wait to throw the lingering customers out when closing time came around.  
  
\--  
  
The night was long. Very long. Extremely, unbearably, excruciatingly long. He had barely managed to catch a cycle’s worth of recharge through the whole night, and he had returned to the bar far earlier than he had had to. He was polishing a glass when Swindle finally came knocking – half a cycle earlier than planned, but he was not about to complain about having to wait _less_ – almost causing him to drop the glass. He quickly caught himself, and went over to let Swindle in. There was no use in letting him wait.  
  
The salesmech looked a bit bored, but his purple optics shone brightly when Blurr let him in, so all was not lost yet. Blurr locked the door after him, and made his way to the bar-counter, gesturing for Swindle to take a seat. He did, and Blurr went back to polishing glasses.  
  
He was not ignoring Swindle. He told himself that, but he had already polished this glass as much as was possible, and the ex-con at his counter had started impatiently thrumming with his nimble fingers. Swindle eventually cleared his throat, and broke the silence. “You wanted to see me.”  
  
It was not a question, it was not a proclamation, it was just... The truth. Blurr had wanted to see him, and so he had called him there. And he was now neglecting him. “You know, there are things I should be doing right now.“ There was a half-smile – not a happy one, but not a sarcastic one either – on Swindle’s face, but Blurr could not help feeling stupid. Of course Swindle had somewhere to be; he had called him to the bar during the _morning_ , when Swindle did... Whatever it was he did for Starscream. He should have timed it better.  
  
Blurr smiled apologetically. “Yes, I wanted to talk to you. About...“ Oh, Primus. This was more difficult than he had expected. He had carefully rehearsed what he wanted to say during the last week, but when he was put on the spot, all of it unravelled in front of him. Oh Primus. It was probably a mistake to do this sober. “About what you said a few weeks ago. Aboutuskissing?” His pitch was rising, and keeping his speech at a normal pace became increasingly difficult. “OfcourseyoumighthaveforgottenIshouldprobablynothavecalledyouherethiswasamistakeI’mjustbeingstupidjustignoremeyoucanjustleavenowifyou-“ His frantic rambling was cut short by Swindle talking. “Oh, that! I remember that. You never mentioned it again, so I just thought you didn’t want to talk about it.” Swindle smiled at him, and Blurr struggled to not look like a kicked turbofox. “I just- I just didn’t know what to say.” He finally finished meekly, quietly wishing that the ground would open up and swallow him on the spot.  
  
“Oh, don’t worry about it! I understand. I was drunk, I misread the signals, I made it awkward.“ There was a full smile on Swindle’s face now, but while Swindle had millions of years of experience in faking a genuine smile, Blurr had also spent a long time in the business of always having a grin plastered on his face, and he could spot a forced smile when he saw one. “Don’t worry about it; it was foolish of me to think that you would be interested in the first place.”  
  
Swindle was still smiling widely, but Blurr felt his spark sink in his chest. Swindle apparently took Blurr’s silence as confirmation, since he flashed another great yet unconvincing grin, and got off of the bar-stool. “Well, I better get going. I have places to be, things to do. I’ll be back later, during opening hours!”  
  
Swindle had gotten to the exit before Blurr found his feet again, and this time, Blurr’s body responded when he ordered it to move. He was by the door in a flash, squeezing himself in-between it and Swindle. A sour grimace fell over Swindle’s face. “Move.” Blurr stayed in place. Swindle tried to push Blurr’s taller frame away from the door. “Blurr, move. I have to go. Unless there’s something else-“ “There is!” Blurr grabbed a hold of Swindle’s shoulders, locking their optics while trying to find the right words. He failed to find any at all, and Swindle pushed his arms away. “Blurr. I am leaving now.” Swindle again turned to leave the bar, and this time, Blurr let him go.  
  
\--  
  
Blurr knew he had to do something. Swindle’s face had betrayed his emotions, displaying genuinely _hurt_ when he has left the bar that morning, and he had yet to return.   The night had been calm – not too many customers, no rows to deal with – and the time barely seemed to be passing at all. It almost came as a surprise when closing time came around, and after the last customers had left without a hassle, he closed up the bar.  
  
He was really not sure what to do. Thoughts and emotions were swirling around in his processor, and he could make neither heads nor nails of any of it. So Blurr did what he usually did when he was distraught; he went for a run. Running always helped him think, helped him clear his mind. And he sorely needed that tonight. It was not like he had cared _that much_ for the ex-con he reminded himself, but he suddenly realized that he cared much more for the crafty mech than he previously had been aware of, and he usually had a firm grip of himself and his emotions. It was worrying.  
  
His run went without a hitch. He did not see any purple and yellow shapes lurking in the shadows during his run, and he did not notice that they disappeared into the night as he got closer to them. After clearing his thought for a while, he soon found himself at his apartment. He locked himself in for the night, and went to recharge.  
  
\--  
  
There were rarely anyone at the bar in the early afternoon. Maybe a mech or two would drop by for an early drink, but the afternoons were usually slow. And he had especially never experienced anyone stopping by within a klik of him opening Maccadam’s for the day. He put on a smile and was about to greet the surprise-visitor, but his optics met yellow and purple plating, and he failed to perform the usual greeting. The sales mech made his way straight to the counter, and announced that he was there to settle his tab. He was not meeting Blurr’s optics.  
  
He settled his tab in silence, not even bothering to complain about spending shanix. It was eerie. When the transaction was done, Swindle smiled at him, and was about to leave again. It was all just too much. “Wait, Swindle!” Blurr jumped over the bar-counter, and raced up to Swindle. “I just wanted to tell you- to tell you that...” Blurr trailed off again, but when Swindle opened his mouth to say something, he pushed on, knowing that if he got interrupted, he would never manage to finish. “I wanted to tell you that I think I actuallyreallylikeyouandImissyoupleasedon’tleavemeagain.” Swindle stared at him with wide optics, too stunned to react. Blurr took a deep breath and kept going “Andifit’sokaywithyouIactuallyreallydowanttokissyoubutIalwaysthoughtyouweren’tinterestedsoIneverdidanythingaboutit.” The words went too fast, and he had his doubts that Swindle even had managed to catch what he had said. He really really did not want to repeat himself though.  
  
Swindle burst out laughing. Blurr was really not sure what to take from that. He was being genuinely sincere – something he never had had to do in his old job, and a habit he had kept through the war – and Swindle _laughed_ at him? It stung somewhere deep in his chest.  
  
Swindle’s laugher died out after a while, and his purple optics rose to meet Blurr’s. The look of hurt on his face immediately made Swindle more serious, and he rushed to explain himself. “It’s just- People like you never fall for people like me, so I knew it was hopeless from the start, but then I went ahead and asked you anyway, and now you are saying that you actually like me?” A smile spread over Swindle’s faceplates as he leaned closer to Blurr. “I just never thought this would happen.I must be dreaming.” Swindle rested his hands on Blurr’s chest, stood on his toes, and leaned towards him. Their lips met, and Blurr relaxed into the kiss, his hands slowly making their way around Swindle’s back.  
  
The door opened again, and before they had time to part, a small collection of people entered the bar, with Slug taking the lead. Purple and blue optics turned to face the door, and they quickly parted from each other. But it was too late, and a yell of “I knew it!” could be heard through the still open door.  
  
Money exchanged hands as bets were resolved, faceplates heated, and the group sat down at their usual table and ordered drinks. Well, it could have been worse, thought Blurr. Especially considering that Swindle had sat down by the bar instead of with the other guests. And while Swindle was burying his face in his drink, hiding his burning faceplates from the other guests, Blurr could have sworn he saw a small, genuine, happy smile adorning Swindle’s faceplates.


End file.
